


The Constellations are Different in the Afterworld

by aeruh



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Gen, I mean, I'm also posting this at 2 AM, SO, and seems rushed, but everyone calls him 'Kuron', he has another name in this fic, i'm warning you now, major spoilers for season six, oh i almost forgot, so there's probably lots of mistakes, sorry i just really needed to write about two of my favorites, the Black Lion is in this one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-18
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2019-05-24 22:05:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14963051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aeruh/pseuds/aeruh
Summary: Shiro's dead. He's pretty sure about that. He's also pretty sure he's stuck on the astral plane, but there isn't much he can do about it.(MAJOR SPOILERS FOR SEASON SIX)





	The Constellations are Different in the Afterworld

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Forest_of_bread](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Forest_of_bread/gifts).



_Being dead,_ Shiro decided, _is strange._

There were lots of strange things about it; more than Shiro could probably list all at once. He tried his best, though, because he didn't have anything better to do and had just lost track of the purple stars he was counting overhead… again.

The deceased Black Paladin listed them off on his fingers. 

First, there was the whole idea of _not being alive anymore._ Just the general aspect of it. One day you’re walking along (or fighting for the Universe, in Shiro’s case) and the next… well. You die. 

That’s it. The end. The black screen that cuts off the movie before the credits start rolling. When you die, you don’t get any do-overs. There’s no saved files to load. Somehow you screw up, or someone or something else screws up, and you’re done. 

That was hard for Shiro to wrap his head around. He spent a long time sitting there, in the strange violet emptiness. And no matter how much he tried to understand it, Shiro couldn't. Maybe some things weren’t really meant to be understood. 

Second, Shiro didn’t experience hunger anymore. Or weariness, or illness, or anything. He supposed it made sense, given the fact that he didn’t have a physical body to drag around anymore, but still. It was weird. The last thing Shiro could remember feeling before dying was pain, and lots of it. Now everything was just… gone.

Third, time didn’t seem to exist here. Oh, sure, he knew it was there, ticking quietly away. But Shiro felt like he was floating aimlessly in a body of water--wasn’t there some form of meditation based on that? If so, Shiro wouldn’t recommend it to anybody. Everything just felt like it melted away. 

At first, Shiro couldn't tell how much time had passed. Days? Weeks? _Years?_ Or, god forbid, what if Shiro was stuck in limbo for _centuries,_ and everyone else he cared for suffered and fought and died before he could get back to them?

_Could_ Shiro even get back to them? He had to hope so. If he gave up on that, he would have nothing left. 

No. It wasn't any use thinking like that. Shiro was going to make it back. He just was. There was no other option. 

But it was hard to hold onto that hope when he didn't know how long he’d been there.

Third, if this place was the afterlife, Shiro had a lot of complaints to file with the HR. 

Everything was the same, unending vastness, tinted with faint, glowing violet that reminded him uncomfortably of the Galra. Stars stretched out overhead, but he didn’t recognize any constellations. That didn’t mean much these days, though. The team jumped from galaxy to galaxy so often, and the stars surrounding them were always different. From horizon to horizon, the only thing that meet up with the sky was barren ground and a lake of water.

At least, Shiro assumed it was water. It was hard to tell, because it glowed purple too. But whenever Shiro stepped, the surface rippled in circles like tiny waves. He could stand on it, though. Like some sort of ghost Jesus. 

Maybe Shiro should have been more in awe of the place, but that was hard because it wasn’t the first time visiting The Beyond. It didn’t take long before he recognized his surroundings as the same sort of astral plane where the Black Lion brought him to face Zarkon. Before, he’d been so busy fighting for his life that he never spared it much thought. The lake was new, though. They must have done some renovations before Shiro stopped by the second time. 

Now he had all the time in the Universe to. Only there wasn’t much to say about it that hadn’t already been mentioned. No matter how far Shiro ran (which was pretty far, because he couldn’t tire himself out anymore) the world around him never changed. All he had were the unfamiliar stars above and the dark earth beneath his boots. 

Fourth, Shiro was _bored._

He was so bored. Going from fighting every day to spending an eternity doing nothing was one of the worst things about this place. Sure, when Shiro was alive he always thought it would be nice for a break, but this was something else. It was only a matter of time before he lost his mind completely. 

Shiro tried to meditate. He hoped that would help it go by faster before… well, whatever was supposed to happen next actually happened. It didn't seem to do anything at all; just standing (or sitting, or most often laying) around wasn’t much different than meditating there, so he gave up on that. Now he tried to count the stars, sing as many songs as he could remember, and made up ones when he started to run out of those. His personal favorite was “Purple Aliens are a Pain (and So Is Flying a Robot Lion.)” 

Fifth, Shiro could feel himself starting to fade.

Shiro wasn’t getting tired; he couldn’t, because he was dead. This was different.

Or maybe it was just another type of tired, the kind the living never had to worry about. Or never noticed. 

It was like… there was less of himself. The same way dough falls apart if it’s stretched too thin. Shiro knew, somehow, that this place was only a layover. And he was spending too much time in it, unable to go in either direction. Torn between two other worlds. 

Not long after this started, the blackouts began happening. 

That was the sixth thing.

Every once in a while, when Shiro blinked, he couldn't open his eyes again. There was just black.

At first Shiro panicked. 

_Is this how things are going to be now?_ he thought, reaching out with hands that he couldn’t see. _Just black? Nothingness?_

Shiro remembered crying. 

_If this is hell,_ he told himself, _then I wouldn’t wish it on anybody._

But the Universe had other plans for him. Eventually the black faded and was replaced with familiar purple stars. There was no way to tell how long Shiro spent in the black, but he got a feeling that each time it returned, it lasted a little longer.

He was wearing away. If nothing happened soon, Shiro knew that he would be dead. All the way dead, the kind where he ceased to exist altogether, and one day when the darkness rose up again, he would simply never leave it. 

That thought scared him. Something had to happen soon. 

Eventually, something did. This was the seventh one on Shiro’s list. 

Lately the blackouts had been happening more often. It was difficult for Shiro to keep himself grounded in the purple astral plane. Every time he blinked, he was afraid that one would rise up again. About half the time it did. 

But this time, Shiro was brought back out of it by a voice. It was very faint, and it seemed to whisper in the back of his mind very faintly.

_Rise, Black Paladin,_ the voice breathed. _They are here._

When Shiro opened his eyes, he wasn't alone. 

The other four were there, and a fifth in armor with pink. Shiro realized how much he missed them, and it felt like all the air was being sucked out of his lungs. But his friends looked like shadows. He could really only see their outlines and hints of the color accents on their armor.

_If they were here--then did that mean…?_

Dread settled in the pit of his stomach. 

_Oh no, please. Don’t let them be gone, they can't--_

“Keith,” he tried to say. “Lance--”

But then all four of them flickered, and they were gone without a word. The entire experience was only a matter of seconds. Shiro was left completely alone again, with just himself and the stars. 

He spent a long time after that, kneeling on the surface of the lake and staring at his own reflection. 

Nothing made sense. It never had since Shiro first found himself here, but he was able to overlook most of it as just a part of being dead. But if this was the afterlife, then the rest of his team being here--even if only for a moment--didn't make sense. Because they couldn't be dead. 

Shiro desperately hoped that they weren’t. He refused to believe it. Besides, they didn't stay like he did. 

But they were here, then it must have meant that this strange place couldn’t be the afterlife. Especially considering that _he_ had been here before, too, and left. 

_So where was he?_

Shiro thought about the voice that brought him back out of the dark. It sounded familiar, but he couldn't put a face to it. 

If Shiro didn't already feeling like he was going crazy, he surely was now. But at least it gave him something to focus on while he was stuck here. 

He had to look at the clues first, like some sort of detective from the beyond. Life never gave you a straight answer; you always had to put things together yourself, had to make them happen. He learned that the hard way when he was stuck in an alien arena for a year. 

Shiro kept going back to his eerie, spirit-fight with Zarkon that happened while everyone else was on their trip to the space mall. There was no doubt about it; this was the same place. There had to be some sort of connection, right? And he was never going to find out who that voice belonged to unless he found out where he was. 

_You are on the right track, my Paladin. Just not thinking hard enough. Stretch a little further._

The voice echoed in Shiro’s mind, and he jolted to his feet like lightning had struck him.

My Paladin? Shiro thought. _...No way._

_I am rather hurt that you do not think I would have saved you, my Paladin._

“Impossible,” Shiro said aloud. “The Black Lion… is that you?”

_Of course._ Shiro didn’t think a mechanical lion could sound amused, but right now this one did. _I brought you here before._

The Lion never made themself visible, but the words seemed to come from everywhere now, rather than just in Shiro’s mind. He wasn’t sure where to look, and instead turned his eyes up to the purple stars. 

“Where… where are we? What is this place? How long have I--”

_Right before you died, I managed to save your quintessence. Everything that makes you who you are. I will hold onto it for safekeeping, as long as I can. I do not know how long you have been here. Time is difficult to understand._

“When you said ‘as long as you can,’” Shiro asked, “what did you mean?”

_Exactly what I said,_ the Black Lion answered. _I will not let you go easily. You are my Paladin. But you are slipping away from me, ever so slowly. Surely you have noticed._

“The blackouts,” Shiro replied. 

_If your pride isn’t able to find some way to bring you back to them, eventually your essence will be drawn away. You are not meant to be here. The very Universe itself is fighting to take you from me._

That sounded bad. Shiro crossed his arms. “To where?”

For a moment, the Black Lion hesitated. It didn’t settle Shiro’s nerves at all. 

_...To wherever everything goes after death,_ they finally answered. _Exactly where, I cannot tell you. I do not know. No one knows. This is only a stop between, and you have been here much too long._

It was nothing Shiro didn’t already know, but the information still didn’t sit well with him when it came from someone else. He wasn’t much of a spiritual person himself; it was hard to believe in anything greater than what was in front of him, especially after fighting an intergalactic war. And yet, at the same time, he had been chosen by a sentient robot lion, and everyone said it was “fate.” 

He didn’t know if there was anything after death and yet here he was, very much dead but not gone. Soon he would be though, and if there was anything after, he would discover it then.

Shiro was afraid of it. He wasn’t above admitting his fear. Maybe once, when he was still living, Shiro would have been. But now everything was unknown to him and very frightening. Things were different.

“I don’t want to go there,” he admitted at last. His voice sounded less confident than he liked. 

_No, I did not think so,_ said the Black Lion. _I swear on King Alfor himself that I will do everything I can to keep it from happening. Your pride is running out of time._

That was the second time now the Black Lion had used that term. 

“Pride?” 

_Your team. Your family. There is only so much I can do. We must trust them._

Shiro thought about the people waiting for him. They didn’t even _know,_ or at least, Shiro was pretty sure they didn’t. Somehow they had to be told, and he didn’t think a spirit board or seance was going to cut it.

“Alright,” Shiro said. “We’ll trust them. But I can’t just sit around until something happens. What can I do?”

 

Truth be told, Shiro was doubtful that there actually _was_ anything he could do. But the Black Lion had one idea hidden in their sleeve (or fur.) 

It involved Shiro staring into the water at his feet. A lot of staring. Mostly staring.

That’s really all it was. 

In between the blackouts that were beginning to happen more and more frequently, Shiro spent his time sitting down and leaning over the water to stare into its surface. All he ever saw was his own reflection, but the Black Lion insisted that with enough practice he would be able to see images; visions of what was happening in the other realm. The one of the living. 

“Like a crystal ball,” Shiro muttered to himself. “Yeah, sure. Okay.”

The Black Lion could pick up on his sarcasm. _The art is called_ scrying, _and it has been used for millennia all over the Universe,_ they insisted. 

Shiro had his doubts. But he didn’t know what else he could be doing, so he stared into the water anyway.

Every once in a while, he would be visited by shadowy echoes of his team--or his _pride,_ as the Black Lion called them. They never seemed to notice, and only stuck around for a few seconds. Eventually Shiro figured it happened when they bonded with their own Lions and each other to form Voltron. 

At least they were still fighting. It was one small relief, and it meant Shiro had some way to keep tabs on them. Even if it was in such a small way. 

His luck with the scrying changed at a day that could either have been the best or the worst moment. 

Best, because it meant Shiro knew what was going on. Worst, because he couldn't do anything about it. 

Shiro wasn't sure what happened to change the tides; maybe it was his desperation. The blackouts were happening more and more frequently, and Shiro was struggling to stay conscious (or at least his new version of it.) Something had to happen soon.

He was sitting on the surface of the water just because he could, staring into the reflection on the surface. His own face looked back at him, all weirdly glowing purple like everything else around him. 

Nothing changed, and Shiro groaned. _Why wasn't any of this working?_

_Patience, my Paladin,_ the Black Lion murmured. 

Despite the situation, Shiro couldn't help but laugh. He never thought anyone would have to tell _him_ that.

“I’m trying,” Shiro said. “But nothing is working. What am I doing wrong?”

_Perhaps you’re going about this the wrong way._

Shiro huffed. “What do you _mean,_ wrong way? What other way is there?”

The Black Lion was silent. Shiro knew that was how they worked; give advice and guidance when it was needed, but they never held your hand the entire way. Shiro was never going to learn how to do this unless he figured it out on his own, but that didn't make it any less frustrating. 

So instead of letting himself get angry, Shiro tried to sort out his thoughts. What other way was there? What was he missing?

He had to know the answer already. It had to be locked away somewhere, hidden in his mind. The Black Lion thought it was, at least, and they were never wrong. 

So instead of staring into the water, Shiro closed his eyes. He brought back memories, which were harder to uncover than he liked. Recollections of battles in space, fighting for the people who couldn't do it themselves. Shiro remembered how it felt to pilot the Black Lion, to work together as one being. It was impossible to do that unless Shiro was willing to trust them each time. Because the Black Lion could see things Shiro couldn't, knew things he never even imagined, and had more power than he ever realized.

When they won battles in the past, it was because Shiro was willing to hand over his own senses and look through the Black Lion’s eyes instead. 

_Look through the Lion’s eyes._

When Shiro opened his own, it wasn’t his own reflection looking back at him this time. Instead, it was stars; different than the ones above him. These celestial bodies were white and blue and red, far away and burning brightly. And they were moving; or rather, Shiro was watching as the Black Lion flew past them.

Suddenly, through the Black Lion’s eyes, Shiro saw a ship. It wasn’t even running; everything seemed to be shut down or dead. It was hard to see how anyone in it could be in the greatest condition. The Black Lion drifted closer, and Shiro was able to get a better look at the pilot who was stranded in the middle of space.

His blood ran cold.

_Shiro was staring at himself._

It was hard to tell through the red viewing glass of the Galra ship, but the pilot had a scar rubbing across the bridge of his nose, and black hair with a streak of white. Even though his hair was longer than Shiro ever kept it and his face had stubble, he was able to recognize himself.

“This is impossible,” Shiro said when the images faded. “That’s not me.”

_No, it is not,_ the Black Lion agreed. _But this human has your same DNA. The same quintessence. What alerted me of his presence were his thoughts of your pride. He cares deeply for them._

“What do you mean?” Shiro rose to his feet. “Is he--he’s a clone? He can’t be trusted. I have to tell them--”

The Black Lion growled. Everything seemed to shake, and Shiro dropped back down to the water until it was over. Apparently those weren't the words the Black Lion wanted to hear.

_This man believes with every bit of his soul that he is_ you. _He’s no more a pawn of this than you are. And your pride needs a leader; they are all hurting. They miss you terribly. Let him act in your place for the meantime. Let him be what they need._

Shiro wanted to fight it, but a part of him knew that the Black Lion was right. He couldn't be there for his team, no matter how much he wanted to, and not in the way that they needed. The other him--the… the clone--he could. 

“It can’t be safe, though,” he said. “This is Haggar’s work, isn’t it? Sooner or later, he’s going to turn on them.”

The Black Lion rumbled. _In time. But for now all is well. When that happens, we will be there. Let them all enjoy this while it lasts._

Shiro relented.

 

It didn't take too long before it was hard not to like this clone of himself--though lately Shiro had preferred to call him his “twin.” _Clone_ sounded harsh and cold. The man taking his place was neither of these.

Over the months, when the blackouts didn’t surround him, Shiro was watching over his team. He had made no progress in returning to them, and it was growing harder to keep himself in the Black Lion’s consciousness. But they were doing everything they could to keep him there. The Black Lion had more strength than Shiro realized, and they weren't about to give up on him.

Shiro appreciated it. 

He watched as his team fought together (and sometimes among themselves.) They bonded and broke away; watching Keith leave was harder than Shiro thought it would be, but he knew that was Keith’s choice. Shiro hoped that he would make it back to them safely when it was time.

Seeing Matt alive and well warmed his heart. He’d never seen Pidge so happy, and he always knew that they would find him someday. Shiro just wished he was there to be the one to greet him.

When his team almost died and Keith nearly got himself blown up, Shiro was terrified. He hated being helpless, stuck watching everything through a mirror. There was gratefulness towards Prince Lotor for saving their lives, even if it was a little begrudgingly. 

Lotor. 

Lotor was a mystery. Shiro didn’t know what to make of him, and despite the Prince’s honey-sweet words, he didn’t believe him. The others didn’t seem to have that problem after a while, and Shiro was alarmed at how easily his twin was willing to call Lotor an ally. The Prince seemed genuine enough, though, but Shiro only trusted him as far as he could throw him. (That was just a figure of speech; Shiro could probably throw him pretty far.) 

Shiro saw it all, or at least parts of it; Zarkon’s death, Sam’s reunion with his children, the new alliance between the Empire and Team Voltron. He never got used to just being an observer; it wasn’t in his nature. But he could endure it while he had to. And through it all, they never even knew he was there. There was one small exception, but he doubted they realized the entire situation. 

Shiro wasn’t quite sure what was going on; the last thing he knew, he was asking the Black Lion questions on how quintessence worked (since a sentient robot feline that was powered by it ought to know, right?) before another blackout. In almost a second, it felt like he was being pulled out of it by several voices calling his name. This time it seemed to take longer before his surroundings returned to him, like the black was clinging to his skin. 

_“...Iro! Shiro! Shiro!”_

The black finally cleared, and there they were: four Paladins, all lined up one after the other in a circle. They were wearing their armor and seemed to be mostly shadow, right in front of him, just like before whenever they came together in the past. Shiro was used to all of that by now. What he _wasn’t_ used to was them calling for him; did they know he was here?

Shiro opened his mouth to say something; he could feel it all slipping away already, and they had to _know_ about his twin and how they shouldn’t be angry at him when they found out the truth, about his suspicions against Lotor, about _everything._

His voice wouldn’t work. Or it did, but the wind swirling past them was so deafening he couldn't even hear himself. It was a miracle he able to hear them calling his name. 

And then, before he could even tell them anything, they began to vanish one by one. Shiro began to panic. 

_No!_ he thought. _I have to do something._

After all this time alone, only able to watch them, Shiro couldn't handle them leaving without knowing when they were finally right in front of him. Who knew when they would call for him again? 

But they vanished anyway, until only Lance was left, standing across from him in his blue armor.

“Lance!” Shiro called, loud as he could be. “Lance, listen to me--”

“What?” Lance called, faintly over the roaring wind. 

Then in the next second, Blue Paladin was gone before Shiro even had the time to blink. The wind died down, and he was left alone. Again. 

He sank to his knees and cried. It didn’t matter; there was no one around anymore to see it happen. 

 

Shiro was scrying when his twin was finally taken under Haggar’s control. 

He knew it would happen inevitably, but that didn’t make it any less painful to watch. They didn’t know it wasn’t really him; they only saw _Shiro_ turning on them, hurting them, running away. 

It wasn’t his twin’s fault. Shiro’s anger for Haggar burned like acid, and all he could do was sit and watch like it was some kind of twisted play.

His twin fought Keith, surrounded by other clones in pods, and cut him down with words that weren’t his own. Shiro clenched his fists, but didn’t ask the Black Lion to do anything. They had taken heavy damage in the fight and some things were even out of their reach. Nothing Shiro’s twin did could faze Keith anyway, and he couldn't help but be proud. 

But the Black Lion managed to catch Keith _and_ his twin before they both fell to their deaths, and Shiro felt a weight lift from his chest at having both of them back alive. He owned the Black Lion a new paint job and lots of top-of-the-line, Pidge-manufactured gadgets.

At long last, Keith finally learned the full story when he appeared in front of Shiro after the fight. Shiro told him everything he could before he began to fade again; he hoped it was enough for Keith to make sense of what was happening. 

_That wasn’t me._

_My physical body was gone. I existed on another realm._

_I died, Keith._

Shiro never had the chance to tell him about his twin; how it was never the other’s fault, that he only ever had the best intentions up until he was taken over. He regretted it and hoped Keith would realize it on his own. 

The next blackout lasted less this time; maybe it was his own determination to stay and watch over his team that brought him back. While Shiro could do nothing but observe them fight Lotor, Keith showed up one final time. As much as Shiro wanted to tell him everything else about his story, he knew this wasn't the right moment; Keith needed guidance, one final time. Or everything they worked for would be lost. A leader always puts their needs above the others, so Shiro did just that. 

In the end, it saved his team’s life. 

With Lotor trapped and taken care of (at least momentarily) in the quintessence, Keith was finally able to tell them about Shiro. How the Black Lion saved him, and the man on the ground that they surrounded wasn’t really him. 

None of them seemed to have any sympathy for Shiro’s twin; but he couldn't blame them. Not really. They hadn’t seen it all the way Shiro had. You can learn a lot as a spectator. 

The next thing Shiro knew, everything was turning white. The purple around him faded and everything was so bright it hurt to look at. 

“What’s happening?” he asked, holding a hand up as if to block out the sun. “Is this--”

_It is time for you to go,_ the Black Lion said. _Do not worry. I shall see you soon. I did promise I would not let go of you so easily._

The white turned to black, and the next thing Shiro knew, he was staring at himself.

Well. Not exactly. He was staring at his twin. The man in front of him was looking around in confusion with one hand pressed against the side of his head like it hurt.

“I thought so,” the twin said when they made eye contact. His voice sounded resigned, like this was something he had been expecting for a while. 

“You--you knew?”

“I had my theories,” Shiro’s twin replied. “I never really felt… like myself. Or I guess… like you. The way I was supposed to. There are gaps in my memory that shouldn’t have been there. I acted differently around the others, and I knew it was _wrong,_ but I didn’t understand how.”

Shiro couldn't help but put a hand on his shoulder. 

“You were only ever acting like yourself. You did everything you could,” he told him. “Thank you… for being there when I couldn’t.” 

“It wasn’t enough. I turned on them anyway. I--I’m so sorry.”

Shiro shook his head. “That was Haggar. I don’t hold anything against you.”

His twin looked away. “I-I think they’re bringing you back now. Allura is going to use my body as a… a sort of vessel.”

“What will happen to you?” Shiro asked. “Where will you go?”

“I don't know,” his twin said. “Maybe I’ll just… vanish. Go away.”

That didn’t sit well with Shiro at all. The man in front of him was a person. He had much of a right to life as anyone else did; the fact that he and Shiro had the same face didn't change that. 

“Don’t go,” Shiro said. 

His twin laughed, but it was forced. “You want me to stay? What will happen? Will I just be a voice in the back of your head?”

“I don’t know,” Shiro admitted. “But you should be here as much as me.” 

Shiro’s twin froze, like the thought never occurred to him before. The possibility of that being the reason made his heart hurt. 

“I don’t know how it would work,” his twin said. “I don’t know if it’s possible. I don’t--I don’t even have my own name.”

Shiro thought until he could come up with a decent name. “Ryou. I think Ryou Shirogane would be a good one.”

The other just stared at him wordlessly.

“I’ve always wanted brothers,” Shiro went on. “Having a twin would be cool, even if we end up sharing the same body.”

Shiro held out his hand in a silent invitation. Now all he could do was wait and hope.

It was like there was a war waging in his twin’s mind. Hope and fear danced across his face. He didn’t dare to dream, to even entertain the thought of both of them getting some sort of happy ending. But in the end, something seemed to give. Shiro didn't know what it was, but he hoped it had to do with something he said. He’d meant every word. 

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he took Shiro’s hand and gripped it firmly like a lifeline. “Okay,” he said. “I guess we can give it a shot.”

Ryou didn’t say anything more. He didn't need to; Shiro understood.

Shiro smiled. “Let’s get back to the others. They're probably worried.” 

That seemed to be the que. As soon as Shiro was done speaking, the same white glow rose up again. Shiro shut his eyes. It felt like someone had wrapped a blanket around him to fend off the chill. He was warmer than he had been in a long time. Shiro forgot how that felt. 

It took him a moment to realize it was his own soul merging with Ryou’s. This was different than how it felt to sync up with the Black Lion during fights. It was softer. Gentle. Like waking up to a morning on Earth when the sun was steaming through the window and coffee was already waiting in the kitchen.

Suddenly he wasn’t just Shiro, and he wasn't just Ryou, either. He was both. He was more than anyone could ever really understand. Memories that weren’t his filled his mind; of escaping a Galra ship, being found by his team, and embarrassing live performances. 

The feeling faded, and then he was just himself. But more; he would always be more, now, and somehow that was right. It was the way things were supposed to be. The white faded and the next thing he knew, Keith’s face filled his vision and smiled joyfully at him. 

_“...You found me.”_

_“We’re glad you’re back, Shiro.”_

**Author's Note:**

> I return from my disappearance to leave this short, messy fic, and now I shall vanish again. I wrote this in like two days in between my breaks at work, because I have a lot of feelings about Kuron and Shiro. Kuron really deserved better, guys, and I love Shiro to death. This was mostly just a way to fix everything.


End file.
